Wait and See
by run-rusty
Summary: Gratuitous fluff: Getting through today and waiting for the next day.


Title: Wait and See  
  
Summary: In which Daniel is a stooge, Sam dates an ex-president, and Jack is caught at that moody time of the month. Except much less exciting.  
  
Story Notes: Lightly cleaned and polished version of earlier fic "While We Wait". Contains a macramé joke that would only be referred to as poor. General S/Other, with specific Sam/Jack intensions.  
  
*  
  
*  
  
Recently she's been catching her self thinking "just let me make it through today..."  
  
It could be every day, it might be every mission, it certainly is quite often that she finds herself thinking "just let me make it through today, and I'll say something", like "hey, Colonel, how bout a beer" or that hoary old chestnut "we need to talk".  
  
But then she can always find a reason not to.  
  
Unconsciousness, debriefing, bone deep feeling of utter weariness. Heart thumping, throat clenching, stomach turning feeling of nervousness.  
  
But she hasn't stopped telling herself that she'll do something if only she makes it through this day.  
  
*  
  
On Monday night, there was a date - something even she was willing to admit was slightly irregular. Or, if she was feeling really honest, downright unusual.  
  
It was one of those rare instances where a guy she'd met in a bar turned out not to have 2 heads, 3 wives, or an excessively over-inflated opinion of his own self importance. For some reason, she thought this guy looked like Bacchus, which quite a disturbing indication that'd she been spending way to much time with Daniel, but nevertheless there was something mischievous and cheeky about his softly curling hair.  
  
He had been sitting further up the bar, also alone, but after their eyes met awkwardly on several occasions, he shrugged and introduced himself.  
  
His name was Abe.  
  
*  
  
Though, the date felt strange, weird. He wasn't weird, she tried not to be weird, so it couldn't be put down to any weirdness like that.  
  
There was something missing.  
  
She'd really hoped it wasn't the Colonel's perverse input, because she had managed a perfectly normal existence prior to making his acquaintance, and after that one date should not be so hard. And she knew for certain it wasn't because of any feelings of guilt. Given his woman on every planet principles, it was obvious there were no feelings of unspoken obligation between them.  
  
There was just some feeling of pervasive wrongness, but as the night wore on and the bar tab increased, she kind of forgot to notice.  
  
*  
  
Three days later, when Janet cornered in the commissary, complaining that the Air Force has requisitioned her social life, Sam could tell her, "I had a date".  
  
Janet made a very un-Janet like noise that made most of the personnel look up startled from their breakfast grits and eggs.  
  
"His name is Abe," Sam listed attributes on her fingers. "He's tall, smart, has nice hair, his own teeth--"  
  
But she was cut off. "What does he do?"  
  
Sam has a feeling Janet was going to like this one.  
  
"He writes."  
  
Janet grinned. "Does he have any bad points?"  
  
He really didn't seem to have any. Sam pulled a face, and the long pause made Janet laugh.  
  
"That bad, huh? What are you going to call your six kids?"  
  
She was still trying to work up enough indignation, to say something spectacularly bilious when the Colonel sat down beside her and dropped his plate with a clatter. One look at Janet's laughing face, and Sam's thunderous one, must have convinced him he was missing something, because he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  
  
"What aren't I getting here?"  
  
The rather awkward moment that was then racing towards her seems both good and bad. On the one hand, she was going to have to talk dating with her C.O. which would be embarrassing as hell, and twice as uncomfortable, but on the other, she'd be there for a bird's eye view of anything that passed across his face. As long as Janet didn't ask if he was jealous, or anything that might imply ... anything.  
  
Please, Janet, she prayed, look inside and find some shred of tact.  
  
"We're talking dating, Colonel," Janet said. "Anything you'd like to add?"  
  
The Colonel looked thoughtful for a second while he stirred his grits.  
  
"Nothing I'd care to discuss outside the men's locker room."  
  
Well, that certainly told her.  
  
Unfortunately, Janet recovered faster. "Sam has met the perfect modern gentleman."  
  
She really liked the pause before he said, "Lucky you."  
  
Though, he could have just been chewing through his mouthful of grits.  
  
"Do I need to start scraping my pennies together for a wedding present?"  
  
And if he was angling for information, she was going to ensure this remained in the abstract.  
  
"I would hope that you'd manage bills. Sir."  
  
He had his breakfast finished in record time and stood up, disregarding her comment.  
  
"Remember, Carter," he paused, for what was probably dramatic effect, "beware of strange men with strange--"  
  
She groaned, "I've heard this one, sir."  
  
He winked, "Has to be said."  
  
And walked off.  
  
*  
  
If she'd hope the cafeteria discussion would have only limited impact, she realized how wrong she was when Daniel sidled into her lab in the late afternoon to pump her for information.  
  
His first question was "How are you, Sam?"  
  
His indelicate emphasis on the 'you' completely ruining any chance he had at subtlety.  
  
"Barefoot and pregnant and waiting for my low down cheating boyfriend to leave his wife and marry me." Was she sounding snarky? "Why is everyone so shocked that I went on a date?"  
  
Daniel looked uncomfortable.  
  
"Maybe we noticed some ... ah ... tensions, and we assumed..."  
  
Her glare made it difficult for him to finish.  
  
"Come on, Sam, you know why."  
  
There was little she could do, but sigh pointedly.  
  
"What is it exactly that you want to know?"  
  
There was a weighted pause.  
  
"Does he make you happy?"  
  
What?! "Jesus, Daniel! It was one date."  
  
He looked just a chagrined. "Still...?"  
  
He was whining a bit, not doubt realizing that if his reconnaissance yielded not information, he was going to be on the receiving end of whole load of bad temper.  
  
She took pity and decided to give him the edited highlights.  
  
"His name is Abe. He is taller than me, 35ish--"  
  
"'Ish'?" Daniel looked like he was burning to whip out a pen and start taking notes.  
  
"I didn't ask. Do you want to hear this or not?"  
  
He nodded quickly.  
  
"He writes for a living, articles, reviews, that kind of thing. He didn't seem in the slightest bit bothered that I was in the Air Force--"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Some guys get a bit weirded out. Start asking if I like big guns, that kind of thing..."  
  
Daniel was silent, staring at her with the same kind of fascination he usually reserved for newly discovered civilizations. She wouldn't have minded if she occasionally received this kind of fixated interest when she conducted scientific briefings, but given the context, it was just a little bit irritating.  
  
"Daniel, I am not an anthropological study. Do you want me to finish or not?"  
  
He blinked.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Anyway, we went to Giovanni's--"  
  
"Classy."  
  
"--And shared a cab home."  
  
"Did you--?"  
  
"No comment."  
  
"You don't know what I was going to ask.  
  
The hell she didn't. "You were going to ask if I asked him in for coffee."  
  
There wasn't even the slightest flicker of embarrassment.  
  
"Did you?"  
  
This had obviously gone far enough.  
  
"I have work to do."  
  
He ignored her.  
  
"Did you kiss him?"  
  
She felt herself making a prissy face. "Goodbye, Daniel."  
  
He tried goading on his way out the door.  
  
"So that's a yes?"  
  
She knew she would really really regret this.  
  
"Yeah, ok. Maybe a little."  
  
He actually had the nerve to giggle.  
  
*  
  
The Colonel waited until they were on a mission to have a chat. He waited until they were in the middle of a large open field of waist high swaying grass on a planet called P4X-768. And he definitely waited until Daniel and Teal'c were well out of earshot.  
  
"Carter, if Daniel has done anything odd-"  
  
She couldn't help herself.  
  
"Odd, sir?"  
  
His glare said: Carter, you know exactly what I mean, so stop making this any harder than it already is.  
  
"--anything odder than usual, I just want to you to know that it wasn't at my suggestion."  
  
It wasn't even a good lie.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Don't get me wrong, I'm really pleased you had a date..."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"... And that you have a life outside the base..."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"... Even if it is with some guy called Abe."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
He frowned. "Could you stop that?"  
  
She may have been smirking. Just a little. Just as much as a heavily inebriated Cheshire cat, who had just won jackpot in a statistically impossible prize pool.  
  
"Shall I change the subject, sir?"  
  
"Please."  
  
*  
  
In a complete reversal of standard practice and historical precedent, Daniel managed to insult the Colonel before midday. Sam had no idea what he said, but she did look up in time to catch the Colonel stalking out, and Daniel making 'meaningful' head movements at her. She stared back, and tried to look puzzled.  
  
His eyes narrowed, and she concentrated on keeping her expression the non-verbal equivalent of 'what on earth do you mean?'. It wasn't easy, but fortunately she could base it on the face the Colonel had perfected during Expenditure and Provision meetings with Pentagon staffers.  
  
He gestured towards the doorway the Colonel had just left through, and mouthed "go after him". She was sure Daniel hadn't thought about this, he just really wanted to get home today, preferably with the Colonel, preferably with the Colonel's arms and legs still attached.  
  
She just hoped the look she gave him fully managed to encompass exactly how little she wanted to be doing this.  
  
*  
  
Half an hour later, she found him inspecting terrain formations with a local farmer. He was doing his who-said-I-can't-be-diplomatic act; eye brows knitted together, lots of nodding and affirmative noises. He looked up just in time to give her a downward nod-glare.  
  
As the farmer moved on towards a series of possibly Roman aqua ducts, he excused himself, grabbed her by the elbow and propelled her in the opposite direction.  
  
"Low blow, Carter," she heard him mutter.  
  
She was more than a little bit confused. "Sir?"  
  
"Danny sending you."  
  
Subtle. And a little strange, because he wouldn't usually bring it up. But she was here to diffuse, so she diffused.  
  
"He didn't think he'd survive long enough to say much."  
  
He eyed her for a second and she eyed back resolutely. Yes, sir, this is avoidance. No, sir, I won't be mentioning ... anything.  
  
"Well, I'll give the man one thing," he said finally when they looked away, "he knows when to leave well enough alone."  
  
The second she looked back up from her boots and saw his smirk, she knew this would be easy. Because like it or not, Daniel had her figured for the soft spot you just have to rub, and Colonel rolls right over.  
  
He took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair.  
  
"This is one of those days that make a deck chair in the Bahamas look like a good idea."  
  
She couldn't help but laugh, and he startled just a little.  
  
"No, don't apologize, sir-"  
  
Now, if she had been Daniel, she would have been lying on the ground, spitting out the dirt she had chowed down during her very sudden landing. As it was, he settled for giving her the biggest dirty in his repertoire, which effectively shut her up, but was less effective in wiping the grin from her face.  
  
He regarded her suspiciously for a second before turning back to camp exaggeratedly, a 'follow me' gesture.  
  
Confrontation completely avoided, which was definitely a good thing. She must have missed Emotional Blackmail 101, because while she had plenty of ammunition, she had never felt very comfortable using it.  
  
"Where are you putting your deck chair, Carter?" he asked out of the blue. It took her a second. Deck chair? Oh, the deck chair in the Bahamas.  
  
He continued, "National library? Smithsonian Institute?"  
  
He paused, into his game now, squinted off into the sun a bit.  
  
"NASA? International Space Station? Um..."  
  
He was on a roll.  
  
"Large lab? Oxford, dedicated lab staff, north facing aspect, central heating, en suite..."  
  
"...Double garage..." she added.  
  
"...White picket fence, 2.5 kids...?" he paused.  
  
And that was when she guessed the right answer, maybe not the honest to god truthful one, but the one that would make him ignore anything, almost anything, Daniel could throw at him. He would be irritating and cheerful, and endearingly sheepish all afternoon, and all it took was one answer...  
  
"I could do a lot worse than the Bahamas."  
  
There. He couldn't quite succeed in smothering the grin or hiding the pause.  
  
"But, Carter," he finally cried, "what would you read?"  
  
Sarcasm, she took as good sign. If he was happy enough be casting aspersions on where she found intellectual stimulus, he was most probably completely recovered from whatever it was that Daniel had said.  
  
Still revelling in this good sign, she was a little bit too quick to answer.  
  
She shrugged, "I'm sure I could find something to do."  
  
Not the absolutely worst answer she could have made, but pretty damn close. She caught herself while his eyebrows were still on the ascent.  
  
"Like diving." Yeah, right.  
  
"Macramé," he drawled, with a slightly evil glint in his eyes.  
  
She didn't really have any choice but to play along. "Never, sir."  
  
"But who's going to keep your grand kids in woollens, Carter?"  
  
She groaned. "I'd use macramé to keep them in pot plant holders, sir, not woollens."   
  
His grin was widening to scull splitting proportions.   
  
"What a waste of all those degrees in astro-doohicky," he said and she just. Couldn't. Resist.   
  
"I'm sure I'd make up for it with my dedication to ... macramé." Because two could definitely play at that evil glint.  
  
Teal'c appeared between the fields in the distance, and if the smile on the Colonel's face was anything to go by, she has a feeling they both look like they spent the last half hour getting seriously high.   
  
"So, you're not adverse to a little macramé then?" he smirked. It was not speech,   
  
just pure, evil smugness.   
  
She ran through her options quickly. 'So long as the pot plants decorative?' 'I hear it's good for the heart?' 'Depends on the string?' But she was thinking that they all took the analogy in directions she really didn't want to go.   
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him peering at her from under his cap.   
  
"You'll just have to drop by and find out for yourself..."   
  
They were rounding on Teal'c, just into shouting distance, and the Colonel was silent for a second -- no doubt wondering when they had moved from gentle flirting to full frontal assault.   
  
"In the Bahamas..." he murmured, "... maybe I'll look you up..."   
  
They reached Teal'c, who looked puzzled from one grinning face to another. He opened his mouth, curiosity piqued ... but settled for giving them perplexed looks.   
  
For the entire afternoon.   
  
The Colonel, on the other hand, just managed to stop smirking long enough not get ambushed by a group of spear waving shepherds, but still succeeded in making her snort coffee up her nose later on the way out of the debrief when he told Daniel he'd be less uptight, if he got some macramé...   
  
Even though it wasn't even remotely funny.   
  
*  
  
That night she went on a date with Abe.   
  
And it was nice. Very nice.   
  
They did dinner and a movie. A real movie, with a plot and subtitles, the type she didn't get to see very often, because Teal'c can't stand subtitles and the Colonel wouldn't sit through anything that didn't have explosions in the opening credits.   
  
They were holding hands, and walking down Main Street, Colorado Springs when she realized what the something wrong was.   
  
She loved this couple thing. She loved that he could put his arm around her waist while they waited in line for movie tickets instead of fiddling with his wallet and talking about hockey scores. And she loved that they made out next to their cars, instead of just getting into them and driving in opposite directions.   
  
She was happy to be seeing Abe now; she just has slightly different plans for the future.  
  
If she could just keep on getting through today.  
  
*   
  
"Colonel, do you wanna get a beer?"   
  
There was a pause in which he looked supremely uncomfortable. "Uh, sure, but ... the regs?"   
  
"I don't think it's really a worry. You know that Lieutenant, the one that Siler flirts with?"   
  
"Which of the *ones* that Siler flirts with?"   
  
Now that was unexpected.   
  
"Brown hair," he nodded, "anyway, she tried to give me dating tips today. I think it's safe to say," Sam paused, and tried to sound shocked, "the rumour mill is dead."   
  
For a second, there was silence. He actually looked ... disappointed?   
  
But he perked up, when she said, "So, do you wanna get a beer?"   
  
*   
  
"So tell me about your boyfriend."   
  
They were definitely approaching drunkenness.   
  
Actually when she tried to flag down a waitress, and almost smacked him in the head, she realized they were well past drunkenness, they were now approaching unconsciousness.   
  
How should she answer...? She decided on head on.  
  
"He's not my boy--" but she stopped, realizing that was just semantics, "He's nice."   
  
"Nice?"   
  
She couldn't help but grin. "Yep, he's nice, and he doesn't like action movies either."   
  
He snickered. "Well, he's obviously not a real man."   
  
She didn't say anything, just took a sip of her beer, and tried to look enigmatic, which is just a little bit hard when you're drunk.   
  
Of course, he didn't notice.   
  
"You don't sound very enthusiastic..."   
  
Ok, careful. This next bit needed to be coherent. She was starting to have trouble making the words fit together and he had to understand.  
  
"I'm just biding my time."   
  
He looked surprised.   
  
"Well, that's nice," he said finally, "you waiting for a big ole shiny ring?"   
  
She answered quickly. "Nope, I'm just waiting."   
  
He was quiet for a second.   
  
"For...?" he paused, then said, "oh."   
  
There was a long, uncomfortable second while they both stared into their beers, before he said softly, "me too."   
  
Yeah, he understood. 


End file.
